Lonesome
by Vibrant Spectrum
Summary: He struggled to push the button with his last ounce of strength. Watari's last thoughts.


Second challenge fic by YaoiCookie. Again, she (you _are _a girl, right?) thought that Watari was under appreciated. I agreed, and this little ficlet was delivered to the world of Fanfiction.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

**

* * *

**

**Lonesome**

I want to scream but I feel mute. My boy, he is staring at me with those eyes. I wish I never had to see those eyes.

Only twice before have I ever seen him show this much emotion. It was only a few weeks after I had found him on the streets. The little boy had witnessed two older boys shoot a bird out of a tree.

He had jumped with surprising ferocity onto the back of the boy holding the slingshot and made him fall. Then he turned to the friend, who was trying to make him let go of the first boy, and started trying to hit him.

I had barely managed to separate the two of them. When I did, I squatted down so as to see eye-to-eye with my young charge. What I saw was surprising. There was a quiet fury burning in his eyes, something I hoped to never be on the receiving end of.

"Ryuzaki? What's wrong?"

He had to put his temper in check before he spoke, his head hung low. "They shouldn't have done that to the bird."

"Why not?"

"All life is important, even that of an animal. What they did was wrong. They should be punished for it."

That day is still clear in my mind. The other occasion was on a stormy night, several years after we had met. Ryuzaki had some spare time on his hands, and we had somehow ended up making simple conversation.

The exact details are fuzzy, but I distinctly remember the smell of chocolate and rain mingling together in a most enticing aroma. There was also a merry fire crackling in the fireplace. Perhaps it was around Christmas season?

Ryuzaki was asking me about my job, if I enjoyed working under him. I told him yes, it was the most rewarding and satisfying job I had ever taken on in my whole life. I said that he was like the son I never had, and that I was so very proud of him.

He suddenly became very quiet, and he stared at his toes. For a moment, I was confused, but then he spoke.

"…Watari, you said that you were proud to call me your son?" His eyes were still focused on his toes.

I recall a slight feeling of dread as I realised where this was headed.

"Yes. Without a shadow of doubt."

"So… What about my own f-father? W-why…why do you think he left m-me?" Ryuzaki choked and looked up. His eyes were starting to fill with tears. "D-do you

think it w-was my fault?"

He was starting to blur. I was surprised when I tasted salt. "Oh, Ryuzaki." That was all I could manage. I rose from my chair and kneeled to see into his black eyes, now so filled with rare emotion.

There was so much pain and confusion in them. Far too much for a ten year old. I wished I could take some of it away, but I didn't know how.

"It isn't your fault. You mustn't blame yourself if your parents were so very heartless as to–"

"Don't talk about my parents that way, Watari." His voice was low and quiet, and his head was down again. I could almost feel that anger rising up in him.

"…Very well, Ryuzaki." I felt a strange pride that he would still defend the people who had abandoned him, but at the same time, I also felt strangely hollow.

He had chosen his nameless parents over me. Did that mean that Ryuzaki did not see me as anything more than just his employee?

It was as if he had read my mind. The ten year old sighed and said, "I do care for you, Watari. I'd just prefer it if you didn't attack my parents without a proper reason for it first."

I had smiled at him, now more at ease. He had smiled back, and neither of us said anything else on the matter.

Now, I am gasping my last breaths, striving to fulfil my last order. I know what will happen when I push the button, so I look at the screen, trying to catch one last glimpse.

L… Ryuzaki… Lawliet. He is looking at me with his black eyes, now filled with worry.

I spend one second too long staring at his face, trying to memorise its every line and analyse its meaning.

I can read so many things from his face alone now… I've really come a long way. I see concern, sorrow. I also see all the things he wanted to tell me but was too shy to do so.

Struggling, I try to tell him that I love him too, but instead, I spend my last amount of energy and push the button. Instantly, his face disappears and is replaced by the words 'All data deletion'.

I can feel my heart slowing. So, I think, I'm finally going to die. Maybe I'll see Ryuzaki where ever it is I'm headed, then we can finally rest in peace together.

_I've led a satisfying life, caring for Ryuzaki. And I saw adventures I thought only existed in fiction. I got to die working under L, which is not something everyone can say._

_My only regret is...that I cannot be...with..._

"...him..."

**

* * *

**

_7th November, 2004_

_Daily News_

_Article by Elliot Whistby_

_Quillsh Wammy, world-renown inventor, died on the 5th of November, 2004 of a mysterious heart attack. Those who wish to pay their last respects may visit his tombstone, which will be located outside 'Wammy's House', the headquarters of an organisation he had founded for gifted children._

_The seventy-one year old man had many achievements to his name, ranging from…_

**

* * *

  
**

A crowd had gathered around the cold marble, mostly consisting of young children from 5 years of age to those who were in their late teens.

"Quillsh Wammy. May 1st, 1933 to November 5th, 2004. His legacy will never be forgotten." A man read from the epitaph to the listening crowd. Closest to the man stood a young boy with a shock of white hair. He held some lilies in his hand.

The boy spoke. "If it were not for you, all of us would not be here today. Thank you." He bowed his head and tossed the lilies on the fresh earth, and took a step back. One at a time, each person came forward and placed a flower on the grave and said something.

Right at the edge of the crowd was a skinny, pale man with black hair. He had a pronounced hunch, and his eyes were hidden. Despite his suspicious appearances, the man was completely ignored, as if he were not there at all.

The crowd dispersed, silent with grief. Moments later, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby, and a blond teenager emerged. He placed a fresh bouquet of roses on the grave and whispered something, and mentioned visiting the grave of a detective. Then he turned and ran, presumably to find said grave.

After everyone else had left, the pale man came forward, a colourful assortment of flowers in his hands. He gently lay it on the grave atop the other flowers and spoke.

"For you, old friend. I'm sorry I never took the time to ask you what your favourite flowers were. I hope we will meet again." He turned to leave, taking comfort in the fact that all his unspoken feelings were known by the only man he had ever thought of as his father.


End file.
